


Hell

by XidnwnabhrX (orphan_account)



Category: Eddsworld
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 11:56:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19198309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/XidnwnabhrX
Summary: so basically this is a lazy TomTord fanfic i made out of boredom. theres slight EddMatt in there too, wowzerseuhhhhhhhhyea—





	Hell

**Author's Note:**

> again, this is a lazy and rushed fanfic at 1 am —

Out in England, a small, thin Norwegian man lay hidden beneath the comfort of his warm crimson blankets. He has short, shallow breaths due to his condition. He’s dreaming of something not all that pleasant. The sounds of gunfire, screams and explosions playing over and over in his mind as pictures flash by of the injured and the dead. Blood splattering and horrified expressions crowd his mind. His heart rate quickens. He feels adrenaline rushing through his veins as he re-lives this horrifying experience in his night-terrors. He begins to see three colors pan through his mind. The last thing he wanted to fucking think of. Green. Purple. Blue. The colors smear in his brain, spinning faster and faster so that he can hardly make out their bodies or faces. Go away. Go away. His heart is racing and his body is quivering with fear. Suddenly, a harpoon is hurdling toward him with those all too familiar words being screamed. I am not your friend. The metallic-blue colored harpoon punctures through his ribs, barely missing any organs — shockingly. As the male sees this scene re-played in his mind, he can almost feel the pain all over again. He snaps out of the horrifying dream and sits up, gasping for air as his body trembles all over. He can feel his heart beat so fast he can hear it bolting out of his chest and getting sucked back in again. He takes a deep breath, his eyes still wide from fear. He shakily pushes his blanket aside and dangles his feet over the edge of the black sheet of his bed. He places his left arm atop the nightstand beside him and uses it to help stand himself up. After he finally stands on shaky legs, without falling, he slowly and carefully makes his way out of his bedroom. He shuffles over to the tiny kitchen of his apartment — eating not being his top priority — and grabs a cup from the cabinet. He places it on the counter top — because of him only having one arm, he can’t necessarily multitask — and then turns to the sink, turning on the water. He picks up the cup and fills it up, sets it on the counter once again, then proceeds to turn off the faucet. He grabs the cup and takes a sip, looking over at the digital clock sitting misplaced on the table. 1:17 am. He groans, still very much exhausted, and takes the last drink from his cup. He lazily chucks it in the sink and walks away. He goes over to the small living room and carefully sits on the couch, due to his injuries. He sighs to himself. •Good job, Tord. Way to fuck up everything•. His mind begins to wander off; all over the place. Thinking of every single way he’s ever messed up. He gets snapped out of his thoughts by simply just being hungry. He looks at the time. 5:08 am. •Mmmm. Don’t have any food. Time to go shove my hobbly gremlin ass out in public for food.• He groans as he stands, the bandages on his torso feeling tight as he stood. Once he was finally straight onto his feet, his one eye’s vision was then blocked by green specks everywhere. His body went numb and he couldn’t tell if he was breathing. He got light-headed and felt his body get sent crashing backward onto the couch. As soon as his left arm collided with the couch cushions, he closed his eye tight and held his breath. His numb body instantly got pain shot through it and touched every single part of him. Once the pain settled, he let out the breath he was holding — still closing his eye — and sighed deeply. He laid there for a minute and opened his eye. He groaned and shifted his body a lot slower into a sitting position. He stayed arched over for a minute before actually trying to stand again. He slowly shuffled, holding the wall for support, and made his way toward his room. He stepped inside and hobbled to his closet, opening it and grabbing a black hoodie and some grey sweatpants. He slowly got dressed and looked in the bathroom mirror. •Disgusting,• he thought. He looked at his reflection. Bloodstained bandages wrapped all over the side of his face and on his neck, — the rest covered by his clothes — pale skin, bags under his eyes, his hair horns dropped down and were slightly coming apart, his eye was half-lidded, all around his eye, the skins around it was red and puffy from crying in pain, his once beautiful red eyes were now both red in color AND bloodshot. He was a mess. He cringed in disgust at his appearance and pulled his hood up, grabbed his keys and wallet, and left. He simply just wanted to head down to the grocery store down the street. But Tord had forgotten that he had to pass the bar to get there. Just his luck, a blue wearing Jehovah’s Witness was walking out as he passed by. At first Tord didn’t notice the Brit behind him, but when he realized who it was, he felt himself instantly begin to shake. He was so scared and paranoid that the Brit would recognize him that he’d began to speed walk. Which turned into a sprint. Which lead to him fucking making a break for it. He ran down to that store as fast as he could and stopped in front of the doors so he’d appear calm walking inside. He entered, grabbed some cupped noodles, paid and left. Luckily, he didn’t see the blue-wearing man on his way back to the apartment.


End file.
